


i'm in love with your dick- and your heart

by netherprince



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Booty Calls, Friends With Benefits, M/M, jon cries about sweet sweet sonndick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netherprince/pseuds/netherprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months ago, a journalist made a horrible mistake. One he doesn't know how to take back, because he's not sure if he even wants to, because it might be the best worst mistake of his life.<br/>Three months ago, he fell into bed with Lawrence Sonntag. Lawrence, Sir Larr, the hacker of FakeHaus. A widely wanted criminal with absolutely amazing thighs. God, he's so fucked. The Jon of then, at least, tried to use the situation to his benefit, tried to get himself above all the emotions, strings, worry. It didn't last, because Jon Risinger is a failure of a human being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm in love with your dick- and your heart

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is pretty light, the buttstuff is for later

Three months ago, Jon Risinger made a horrible mistake. One he doesn't know how to take back, because he's not sure if he even wants to, because it might be the best worst mistake of his life.

Three months ago, he fell into bed with Lawrence Sonntag. Lawrence, Sir Larr, the hacker of FakeHaus. A widely wanted criminal with absolutely amazing thighs. God, he's so fucked. The Jon of then, at least, tried to use the situation to his benefit, tried to get himself above all the emotions, strings, worry. It didn't last, because Jon Risinger is a failure of a human being.

* * *

 

It was the morning after a night he's not sure he's humanly capable of forgetting- save the parts Jon was too busy blacking out for- with Lawrence scrolling through his phone while Jon buttoned up his shirt, not even noticing that the buttons were all one off. It wasn't regret that had him open his mouth- maybe it was fear, he still isn't sure- but all the same, Jon looked down, said, "I don't want to be in a- a thing right now. A relationship. But you're hot, and sometimes I get in the mood to make bad decisions. Can I-"

There was a scoff behind him, followed by a short laugh. "Yeah, sure, I'll be your booty call, Risinger. Just text instead of calling. I don't want my phone to go off during a heist. Gavin changed my ringtone to Minions months ago, and I can't get it to go back, the bastard." That time, they both laughed, before Jon groaned and started fixing his buttons.

* * *

 

As it turns out, three months of spontaneous sex does something to someone like Jon. All the warm breaths fanning across his neck, all the loose smiles turned on him, all the bruises littering his back... Jon stood in front of his mirror two months in, twisted to look at them, and it scared him when he caught his face in the mirror. It's not something Risinger was used to, making such fond looks over shit like this. A week after that, writing an article and sipping chain-restaurant-foul coffee, Jon glanced up and wished, just for a minute, that Lawrence was there to laugh at his serious face and tell him to relax, tell him that it's just an article on illegal horse gambling, he can write this with his eyes closed. Something about that made his heart flutter, and Jon just slammed his laptop shut to the point of almost spilling his coffee. 

The next day, there was a report of a heist gone bad. Explosions. Police. Luna there, looking worried. 

Jon went to bed immediately, only crawling out when he got a curious message from 

* * *

 

He's had two weeks to deal with this, and Jon hasn't. Of course. He hasn't even called Lawrence over, or texted him at all. Instead of a warm face to keep him company in bed, Jon's taken a page from the Kingpin, ranting to Miles over the phone with a bottle in one hand. "I'm the one who told him no feelings, Miles!"

"Mmhmm."

"I mean, I should be able to deal with this. I covered the romance-fuelled company merger with Let's Play, I wrote this histories of Burns taking in Free, I've been there for everything! A crush shouldn't be anything. I can deal with this."

"Yeah, buddy."

"But he's just so... He's warm and funny and always acts super interested, and he's rich, and he's kept my ass safe more than once... God, I think I'm in love with his dick AND his heart. I'm such a loser. Feelings."

"A-aaa...bsolutely."

"And why shouldn't he like me! I'm pretty, I'm smart, we both like games, I'll watch his shitty waifu anime with him, I'm fine with him dating half his crew- at least half, I haven't asked-"

"So- so, fuck, why are you calling me instead of... of him, anyways. You've got all this. Shit, do that- Go call him, dude. You're good." There's a click, and Jon is left staring between the bottle and the phone after a moment's realization, a little red around the cheeks. God, even Miles is getting some. Well, that's actually not a surprise. The great detective Miles, what a joke. Everyone knows that he's Burnie's guy,and that his personal goals involve at least first base with all the Teeth, main crew and outside. Still, though, on the phone? Risinger doesn't really remember groaning and collapsing into bed, but he supposes he has to.

* * *

 

He wakes up to a few missed texts, a missed call, and his phone making noise. Why hasn't he changed the default ring yet? He goes to turn off his alarm at first, before looking at his phone closer. Oh, shit. For vagueness' sake, Lawrence is only in his phone as FLS, and that's the name displayed, phone buzzing louder now that it's not smothered by his bed. Jon's head is pounding as hard as his heart when he flicks on the call, a tired, but relieved-sounding Lawrence on the other end. "Don't you know it's rude to ditch a dude out of nowhere? I was worried you got bored of me or something, and I didn't want to have to come hunt you down-"

"Come over," Jon rasps out before he can stop himself, and it kills him how desperate he sounds. He didn't realise how much he missed Lawrence until he heard his voice again. Jon's waiting to be mocked, but even though he can hear a smile in Lawrence's voice, all he gets is a soft,

"Okay."

Oh, Jon, what have you gotten yourself into.

Now that he went and made himself desperate, Risinger figures he might as well make himself pretty and desperate. This means he's only halfway wearing a shirt when Lawrence shows up, hair still damp from a birdbath, panting out mint like he sprinted to the door from his bathroom. (He did.) But at least Jon feels confident in smiling to Larr, and Lawrence grins back, the relief even more evident. "Glad you're still alive, babe. Your face is too fine to just have a few months with." Oh, god, Jon does have it bad, because he only groans and rolls his eyes in the 'my boyfriend said something not smooth at all' way before pulling Lawrence in by the collar of his shirt. "You know, you didn't have to miss me, you could have c-"

Anything more Lawrence was gonna say is smothered, because Risinger pulls him close and kisses him, sideways and off center and bumping their faces together and wonderful. Jon makes a choked sound and fixes his angle, arm going over Lawrence's angle while the hacker hesitates, before gently tugging him flat to his chest, free hand cupping around his face. It's chaste, and that makes it worse, neither of them pushing it into a fresh makeout sesh to add to their behind-closed-doors activities. Jon doesn't know if he wants Lawrence to or not. What he does know is standing is overrated, his knees going week, and it shouldn't shock him but it does all the same when Lawrence just scoops him up with a soft noise. Is it comforting? Yes. Should it be? Jon couldn't tell if asked, because it feels so good. Especially as he's walked gently to his bedroom, especially with a warm body on his against the soft plush of his mattress, especially when both of the big, smooth hands cup his face and pull him closer.

Jon has to pull away a little, settle his brain and his heart, but he's still left looking up at a very content Larr and it doesn't help. God, it doesn't help. All he can focus is on a nervous lick of the lips, an idle thumb sweeping over his cheek. Jon stares up for a long second, and then Lawrence is getting blurry and worried, making soft hushing sounds at him. "Hey- hey, don't cry, don't do that, what's wrong?"

Cry?

Oh.

The journalist coughs out a laugh, smearing his eyes dry again. "I didn't mean to, asshole. I just..." He trails off, turning his head to the side, while Lawrence gently settles on his knees, trying not to crush him. "I missed you. I've been a wreck. I..."

For the first time, Lawrence is looking around the room, and Jon feels sick as the worry on his face deepens. "Have you been inviting Geoff over or something? Christ, Jon. Why didn't you call me? I would have kept you busy-"

"You were the problem!"

It explodes out of Jon, and he feels like shit instantly, pressing his face into the pillows to avoid Lawrence's eyes. Good job.

"You just... Listen, I. I guess I got... attached." And don't it always start so simple. More words come flowing once he opens the stopper, Jon still not looking at him as he mumbles, "I started feeling things and it scared me. I wanted you around to do more than fuck me and leave, I wanted to drink coffee and get drunk and watch bad tv and listen to you talk about numbers, and, and Miku, and all your shit- not for a scoop, god, I'm in love with you more than your dick, and that's saying something, because it's wonderful, and I'd rather have it in my mouth than all these feelings." He doesn't know where to go from there, mouth hanging open for a second before closing. "Welcome to On the Spot, these are my guests, hard anxiety and avoiding emotions."

It serves to get a laugh out of Lawrence- "What are you, the Grinch?"- and that makes it better. Much better. Jon's able to show his face again, and he even gets out a shaky smile, one of Lawrence's hands smoothing his hair back. "Hey, prettyboy, welcome back. I was worried you were gonna turn into a pillow- though, a Jon Risinger body pillow doesn't sound too bad..." Now they're both laughing, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off Jon's chest. Lawrence tilts his head a little, smile growing. "But I like my emotionally constipated wreck of a journalist better, if I'm honest. Pillows don't laugh when I talk about how I got back at some crew moving in last week. Pillows don't make pretty little moans when I nibble around their hips." For some reason, it doesn't heat Jon up- he just laughs, feeling a soft delight. "And I'm not animu trash enough to be in love with a pillow." Oh, that gets him flustered. Super flustered.

"I- I- you. You!" Lawrence is laughing at him, but Jon just pulls him down for a kiss, arms loose around his neck. "I hate you," he mumbles, which sets Larr laughing again, and then... They're laughing together. Laughing, and kissing, and there are gentle hands roving down his chest, and he hasn't felt this happy in months. If the look in Lawrence's eyes, warm and dark, is anything to go off of, he might feel even happier before the night is over.


End file.
